


Never Wrong; Always Right

by LilWordWeaver



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Emotionally Constipated Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Hurt Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Rough Sex, Sex, Smut, Surprise Ending, Touch-Starved Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:01:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25512478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilWordWeaver/pseuds/LilWordWeaver
Summary: Evelynn was never supposed to exist. In all the Continent, no one and nothing like her existed anywhere else and wherever she went, trouble, death and danger followed. So it only made sense when the Witchers were finally sent to hunt her down and kill her, one of their own. What didn't make sense was who finally found her and what happened next.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Original Female Character(s), Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 59





	1. An Unlucky Begining

I was just about eleven years old when my father sold me to Vesemir the Witcher, sending me to the school of the Wolf in Kaer Morhen far away. My father knew well that I would never survive the trials to becoming a Witcher, it was rare for even the males to make it through alive, but almost unheard of for females. He sent me there to my death for the low price of fifteen silver and a horn of ale.

I had never loved my father, he was a cruel abusive man; a failed farmer that took out his frustrations and drunken rage on his all too beautiful young wife and innocent daughter. It was rare for me to go to bed without a new bruise and even less common to do so with a full belly. My mother, however, was a kind, loving and patient woman who had been married off to my father young, when he was somewhat of a successful farmer. My father often told me that all their good luck and fortune turned sour the moment I was born, as if somehow the timing of my birth had cause the crops to rot, the fields to dry up and the cows to die of sickness. But somehow in the eleven years since my birth, the bad luck had not let up and we all continued to suffer for it, my mother most of all until the day she had taken her life, jumping from the church tower in the center of town to escape my fathers abuse. After that, I was the only one around for him to take his frustrations out on and he never left a day go by that he didn't remind me what an awful mistake I was.

Now I would become someone else's curse to bear.

Vesemir was a man unlike any I had encountered in our small village and I was immediately intimidated by him. He was tall and weathered man with long silver hair tied back from his face. He had a large nose and deep sunken eyes that spoke volumes of the things he had seen in his long life. He spoke very little as he sat me down in front of him on his horse and took me away from the only home I had ever known. I never bothered to look back as we road away, that place held no good memories for me, and although I was unsure of what would become of me wherever Vesemir was taking me to, I was sure it wouldn't be much worse than what I was leaving behind.

It took us several days to reach Kaer Morhen, an imposing fortress built into the side of a mountain far from the flat and barren farming lands I had known all my life. Vesemir said nothing as he dismounted his steed and lead me, still astride the ash-colored mare, through the gates and into the fortress.

We passed through what looked to be a training grounds, dozens of boys of different ages fighting and wrestling with one another in the dusty arenas. Most of the boys looked to be about my age, but there were some that were older standing along the edges watching the younger boys tussle in the dirt with little interest. There was one boy who stood out, he was tall with pale-blond almost silver hair hanging around shoulder length. He watched as Vesemir lead me through the training grounds, his bright golden eyes curious as they met mine for just a moment before I was lead into the stables and out of view.

Vesemir helped me off the mare and motioned for me to follow him as he exited through the other side of the stables and headed towards the main building of the fortress. Once inside the quiet man lead me through a side hall and towards the lower floors of the building. My heart pounded heavily in my chest as fear and trepidation coursed through me. Was he taking me to the dungeons? What was going to happen to me? For the first time since leaving home, I suddenly longed to return, even if it meant empty stomachs and daily beatings from my drunk father.

"Don't be afraid young one," Vesemir spoke ahead of me, still facing forward as he walked through dimly lit stone corridors that looked as though they had been carved from the mountain itself. I wondered how he knew I was so frightened, he had probably brought other children here before and had to deal with their fear. The thought still didn't ease my nerves.

We exited the end of the long halway into a small anti-chamber with four doors placed evenly along the rounded walls. Vesemir opened the second one to the left and motioned for me to enter. Hesitantly, I walked into the room, my eyes and ears searching for any danger as I slowly entered the black room. Vesemir lit a lantern hanging just beside the door and placed it back on the hook, the low light just bright enough to fill the small room and illuminate the sparse furnature inside. There was a small bed on a wooden frame, a short but wide bookshelf with a few dust-covered tomes resting inside, and a desk and chair on the far end of the room from the door. I looked around the small space and then back at Vesemir.

"This is to be your room," he explained, his golden eyes meeting mine. An ever stoic expression remained on his face, but I swore I could almost see kindness and compassion reflecting in his eyes.

"I've never had my own room before." I confessed.

"Normally if you were a boy you would be bunking in a larger room with other boys your age," he began to explain, speaking more in that half sentence than I had heard him utter in the last several days of our travel, "but as you are a girl and the only one here, you will take this room next to mine."

I was the only girl here? I knew from stories I had heard that all of the Witchers were male with the very occasional exception. If girls rarely survived the training process then why did they keep trying to train them?

"I'm going to die aren't I?" my voice was strangely void of emotion as I spoke. I supposed I always knew I was going to have to fight for my life, one way or another.

"It is likely, but at least here you have a chance to fight and we will train you to become stronger." 

I nodded in understanding and walked further into the room before turning to Vesemir, "Thank you for taking me away."

His bushy thick eyebrows shot up, seemingly confused by my gratitude. It didn't entirely make sense to me either, but I was sincere nonetheless. Vesemir turned and readied to close the door before glancing back at me, "The privy is the door on the end to the right of where we entered, my room is to the left of this one. Get some sleep child."

I wanted to ask about the third door but decided better of it as he closed the door. I folded back the blankets on the bed and opened the drawers of the small dresser beside it. Inside were a few articles of plain clothes; pants and shirts for daily use and a single white cotton sleeping gown. I changed into the gown, practically swimming in the fabric as it was much too large for me. I knew how to sew and made a mental note to find a needle and thread tomorrow as the other clothes were likely too large as well and would need to be altered.

After extinguishing the fire in the lantern I felt my way back to the small bed and laid down, surprised at the softness of the mattress and pillow as I was used to a wool-covered haystack as my own bed at home. I shook my head at the thought of my father and the farm, that was no longer my home. The fortress of Kaer Morhen and the cult of the Witchers would become my home and my new family.


	2. Surprise Savior

The first several weeks at Kaer Morhen went by in a blur. Every morning I was woken before the sun rose by Vesemir and I would follow him to the large dining hall for breakfast with the others. Vesemir had been right that I was the only girl in all of Kaer Morhen. The complete absence of any other female presence was noticeable in the way the dozens of boys and even other male instructors watched me constantly. After the first couple of days I got used to all of the attention, much of it very unwanted. I was placed in a group of boys all around my age and made to train and learn with them. I had never been allowed to read before and I was far behind most of the others when it came to learning letters and words. I was often teased and bullied for being a slow dumb girl, but I didn't let it get to me and instead worked harder than anyone else.

I was a quick study when it came to reading, but all of the physical training was much more of a strain on me than I had expected. Even growing up on a farm and helping with the daily labors there had not prepared me for just how intense the physical aspects of training to become a Witcher would be on my body. Then there were other challenges to consider.

After about four months training at Kaer Morhen I discovered that my body was changing in more ways than one. While I was quickly shedding the softness from my body, gaining muscle and becoming leaner than before, I was also growing in other ways. I had been training outside in the dusty arena, wrestling with another boy my age but much larger than myself when he flipped me onto my back and pinned me down. A chorus of disgust echoed around the ring of boys watching the fight and I sat up to see what all the fuss was about. I looked where the rest of them had been staring to find that the fabric of my trousers between my legs was soaked in blood. My face burned at the realization of what was happening. I had pushed the boy still pinning me down away and ran through the castle to my room, my face ablaze with embarrassment and my mind pouring through ideas of what to do. In that moment my mothers gentle face came to mind. Oh how I missed her, she would know what to do to help me. 

I locked myself in my room and tried to think of what to do. I vaguely remembered how my mother had handled the situation and tried to replicate the process, at first with little success but after a couple of days I managed to get it to work and no one noticed the blood anymore but the boys still kept their distance. The older boy I had remembered seeing my first day seemed to pay more attention to me now than he had before, his hair turning pale and eyes gold as he worked his way through the Witcher Trials and the trials worked changes in him. I had caught him staring at me a few times, my cheeks always reddening in embarrassment as I looked away. I wasn't sure why he stared so much when it seemed like everyone else had finally gotten over the novelty of having a girl around, especially after I had cut my hair short, tired of the others pulling on it and the hassle of maintaining long hair.

It was just a couple of weeks past my twelfth birthday when trouble found me once more. I had finally won my first fight with the other boys, nearly breaking the arm of my unfortunate opponent in the process, but it did not taint the taste of victory for me. I had been praised for my success at dinner that evening and then went on to complete my chores. I was grooming a beautiful chestnut horse when I heard the shuffle of several feet behind me. I turned around to see the boy I had bested earlier accompanied with two more of his friends blocking the exit to the stables. My heart pounded heavy in my chest under furious gazes, their cruel smiles causing my skin to crawl uncomfortably. I put down the brush I had been holding and grabbed a hoof pick from the tack box nearby. It wasn't very sharp or long, but it was something and I sensed that I would need to defend myself shortly.

Without a word the three boys lunged at me, trying to overwhelm me as they forced me back into an empty stall, the horse that I had been grooming neighed in panic and fled from the stables, the doors swinging wildly on squeaking hinges. I lashed out at them with the hoof pick, cutting one of the boys hands just before the one I had beaten yesterday grabbed hold of my hand and twisted my arm, forcing me to drop my only weapon. I tried to kick and fight my way through but was met with a swift punch to the gut. I doubled over gripping my stomach in pain. The leader of the three knelt down close to me, his face just inches from mine as he smiled menacingly at me, the smell of his awful breath turning my stomach more than the pain.

"Girls like you don't belong here and I don't have time to wait for the trials to kill you," he threatened, "After what you did to embarrass me, you deserve to suffer slow."

The other two boys held my arms as the the other tore my shirt open, his laughter echoed along the beams of the stable and newly exposed my skin shivered.

"Are you even a girl with tits this small?" he mocked, his cold dirty hand grasping at my chest and squeezing painfully as his other fumbled with the ties on his trousers, "I guess we'll find out."

I started to struggle more, kicking out my legs, trashing around on the cold hay-strewn ground. I opened my mouth to scream but my cries were choked off as a hand squeezed around my throat, my lungs protesting painfully as I struggled to breath through the vice grip. I felt my trousers being torn off, the cool night air caressing my skin as a rough hand trailed up my inner thigh. I trembled in fear as I knew what was about to happen, tears filling my eyes both from pain and shame as the boys studied my nakedness, laughing as they groped me with their filthy hands.

The edges of my vision began to fade away and I was sure I was going to pass out, my fate left to these horrible boys, when suddenly the pressure around my throat disappeared. I gasped for air and just as my vision cleared I glanced up nervously to see the boy who had previously been clutching my throat now staring horrified at the bloodied metal tips of a pitchfork protruding through his chest. He glanced at me with surprise and pain before tilting to the side, falling down dead beside me with surprise frozen in his eyes. The two boys still holding my arms glanced at their dead companion and back to each other before turning their attention to the intruder now pulling the blood soaked farm tool from the dead boys body.

I gasped in surprise to see the pale-haired boy from my first day standing mere yards away, his golden eyes dark with fury as he glared between the two boys still holding my arms down. The boys quickly let go and backed away from me. One of them tried charging at the older boy but was struck in the face with his elbow, the sickening sound of breaking bones meeting my ears as he tried to stem the flow of blood gushing down his mangled face. The last boy stepped back against the walls of the stable stall with his hands up in defeat, urine streaming down his legs as he voided himself in fear.

I glanced at my rescuer as he threw the pitchfork out of a stable window, the clattering sound of his landing on the stone ground the only sound as he cautiously approached me. He knelt down beside me and I shivered, wrapping my arms around myself to hide what I could, flinching away from him in fear as he tugged his shirt off over his shoulders.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said, his voice deeper than expected, husky but gentle. 

He reached above me and pulled the fabric down over my naked body, the cotton shirt just long enough to reach past my hips. The boy put an arm around my shoulders and helped me to stand, catching me as my knees wobbled and I lost my balanced, head swimming and the room tilling dangerously. He grunted as he picked me up, my weight almost nothing to him as he proceeded to carry me past the two boys standing still in fear, the blood of their dead friend still pooling in the stable stall between them.

Just after we passed the stable doors, Vesemir came bursting through the door to the hall, four of the other instructors in tow as they ran towards where the golden-eyed boy stood with me still in his arms.

"What the bloody hell happened?" one of the instructors demanded as he approached us, eyes wide and gaze suspicious as he took in my state and the boy holding me.

Vesemir and another of the instructors passed where were and continued on into the stables, returning a moment later with the other two boys held by the scruff of their shirts before tossing them unceremoniously onto their knees on the hard stone ground. They whimpered pathetically, tears streaming down their faces as they huddled into themselves. The other instructor dropped the dead body of the other boy beside the two still simpering weakly on their knees.

"Geralt explain yourself!" the head instructor demanded, his face reddening as he stared at the dead body and back to the older boy still holding me.

"They tried to rape her sir." the boy holding me spoke. His voice unwavering under the scrutiny of the instructors. Vesemir looked to be the only one unsurprised by the mess before him as he glared disgustedly at the remaining two boys.

"Is this the truth girl?" the headmaster barked. He was a tall scrawny man, much older than Vesemir and much less tolerable. I had never liked him.

I flinched in Geralt's arms, his grip around me tightening slightly as if to protect me. I tried to open my mouth to speak but couldn't, the pain in my throat and damage to my neck too much. I simply nodded in answer. The headmaster sighed in irritation, his hand massaging his temples as he closed his dull brass-colored eyes in thought. He finally opened them and glared daggers at the two boys as if he had come to a decision but wasn't entirely happy about it.

"Vesemir, execute them for their crimes against the girl, but gather the others in the arena and have them present," The boys cried out in fear, begging for their lives and insisting they were innocent, their cries unintelligible before being cut off my the headmaster with a wave of his hand, "Let it be known that we train Witchers here to hunt down monsters, not more monsters to plague humanity. Any further transgressions such as this will be met with the same punishment." And with that he marched away back to the main hall, the other instructors following behind.

After the other instructors had left Vesemir approached where Geralt still stood with me in his arms, "Geralt, get her to her chambers and stay with her there until I return."

Geralt nodded and carried me away, taking me deep into the castle and back to my room where he set me down gently on the bed before covering me with a blanket and taking residence in the chair by my desk. I hadn't learned his name before now, though I had seen him around the fortress many times over the past year. He was always training with the older boys. I couldn't quite tell how old he was but I was certain he was soon for the last of the Witcher trials, his pale hair and golden eyes telling me he had endured at least the first of the three already.

"Ger-alt" I croaked, my throat sore and voice hoarse.

The boy looked up at me from his position on the chair before standing and moving closer to the bed, dragging the chair along with him. He didn't say anything as he took his seat once more, but his eyes wandered over me as if checking to see if anything was wrong before his eyes met mine once more. My heart skipped a beat at the sight of those soft golden eyes and I was suddenly nervous to have him so close.

"Did you need something Evelynn?" he asked quietly, still looking at me with such intensity.

He knew my name? My heart lurched in my chest again as I stared at this older boy, almost a man. For the first time since seeing him all those months ago, I finally got a good look at him. His face was chiseled and angular like that of a grown mans, pale stubble growing around his mouth and chin with thin lips elegantly curved and looking soft. I swallowed painfully, my mouth suddenly dry as my cheeks pinked.

"Wa-ter" I rasped. Geralt nodded and jumped up from his chair, exiting the room without another word. When he returned with a pitcher of water a few moments later I was sitting up in bed, my body sore but my dry mouth in desperate need of water. I took the pitcher from him and quickly drank it down, coughing and choking on the water as my throat struggled to allow it to pass unhindered. Geralt tenatively patted my back to help me clear my throat before retaking his seat and placing the now empty pitcher on my bedside stand.

Now that I had had something to drink my mouth felt less dry and my throat slightly less sore. Good, I had some questions for this Geralt boy.

"How did you know to come and save me?" I croaked, my voice strained and unfamiliar.

He sighed, apparently having expected this line of inquiry, "I've been keeping an eye on you when I can. Vesemir asked me to."

Vesemir asked him to watch over me? "Why, and how do you know my name?"

He snorted and rolled his eyes, a small amused smile on his delicate lips, "Because you are the only woman in all of Kaer Morhen," he chuckled, "And as for knowing your name, same reason."

My cheeks burned at the obviousness of it. Of course he would know my name, I'm sure everyone on the mountain did. He was right that I was the only female here, but the way he said it had my heart thumping strangely in my chest. He had called me a woman, yet I was barely twelve years old and the boys had been right, I certainly didn't look much like a woman with my small chest and boyish muscles. I mulled over the knowledge of Vesemir assigning him to watch over me and couldn't help but wonder why. If he didn't believe that I would survive the training, then why did he bother with me at all? I suddenly had more questions but doubted I would find the answers to even half of them.

Geralt and I sat in silence for a while longer while waiting for Vesemir to return. I couldn't say exactly what time he finally returned, but I knew that it was late. Vesemir knocked on the door once before opening it and entering the room, his eyes glancing at me laying in bed half asleep before flickering to Geralt sitting close by, head in his hands as he was also close to unconsciousness. He shooed Geralt off to his own bed and extinguished the light, leaving me in darkness to find slumber waiting.


End file.
